Tokka Week
by Invaderk
Summary: A collection of Tokka stories in different genres and scenarios to celebrate Tokka Week! One story per day, all Tokka all the time.
1. Influenced Epiphany

A/N: Happy Tokka Week, my friends! This is a project I've been working on for... one week. I heard that Tokka Week was taking place August 1-7, and then I realized I was not going to be here for most of it, so I got down to business and am still in the process of writing my stories. In this collection, you'll probably recognize several themes, including shenanigans and Tokka lovins and what have you, and I took this week to be nostalgic and touch base with a bunch of old stories that I wrote. So if you happened to be an avid reader of my Tokka, you might see a few old things! If not, you can still enjoy this. Well, at least I certainly hope anybody can enjoy this, but I'm so self-critical that I just don't know! Wow, Debbie Downer here, sorry. Moving on!

One story per day, each day of Tokka Week. Sounds fun, right? Well I have 'till tomorrow to finish three stories (and I tell you, it is very difficult to write three stories at once), so the last three might be... a bit late. But until then, let's start with this story. It's the most... graphic... of the week's stories, but since the internet is for Tokka, that's okay. If you don't like this, give the others a chance. There are a lot of genres here. This story is only half-beta'd because metromax went to a party and got drunk and forgot to finish betaing (don't worry, I still heart you). I looked around on the internet after the finale, took pieces of dicsussion, and used them to fuel the fire that is my passion for this story. I hope you enjoy it, because it was a heck of a write-up!

Disclaimer: I don't even own Tokka Week.

Happy Reading, and Happy Tokka Week!

* * *

_Influenced Epiphany_

Three drinks in, and Sokka was thrilled to be able to say that he could say that he could speak more or less clearly. After years of practice, he'd found the happy medium between being completely ratmonkey-faced and being sober enough to remember what had happened the night before. He was on the verge of breaking this long-practiced medium, and Toph had developed a similar pattern as well (not that they were complaining).

They hadn't seen very much of one another in the last few months, since he more or less worked in Ba Sing Se and she took care of most of her business in her hometown, Gaoling. But tonight was a special get-together, which they had planned over several letters (all of which Toph had needed her parents to read to her, much to her chagrin) to meet once more and compensate for lost time as drinking buddies (much to her parent's chagrin, but since she didn't live with them there was nothing they could do).

He slid a drink across the table with a lazy wink at the frowning bartender. Toph caught the drink with one hand and grinned, lifting the overfilled mug in the air and spilling froth all down her arm and cut sleeve.

"To us!" she proclaimed.

Grinning, Sokka swung his half-empty drink against hers so loudly that the bartender winced from the other end of the long bar table.

"To us!" he agreed with a nod that she doesn't see. "Here's to the end of the war, and to the anniversary of the day we almost died but didn't—because we're _just that good!_"

They drank their toast and slammed their mugs down on the chiseled counter, and once he'd mopped up the resulting mess with his sleeve, Sokka took a good look around the little bar. It wasn't "little" per se, but compared to the grand bars of the Impenetrable City it was hardly more than a closet, tucked away in a little corner of Gaoling where he wouldn't be able to find it in time for the meet-up. He was willing to bet that she had picked this bar just so he'd get lost on his way—or, knowing Toph's reputation as a drinker, because it was one of the few she hadn't been permanently banned from. So he had limped into the bar late, half expecting her to be in a Katara pose—in other words, miffed—but she had been in good spirits from either the drink she'd already had or just from the fact that she was thrilled to "see" him leaning awkwardly against the doorway before her, and the rest of the night had gone flawlessly thus far.

"So," he began casually, pleased that he still wasn't slurring too much yet. "_So_. Toph. How's life been treating you?"

Toph nodded as she took another gulp, sending a small stream of amber down her front. "S'long as I don't have to see my parents more than once a week, life's pretty good, isn't it? They'll be at my place tomorrow for lunch, come t'think of it. What about you, Mr. Enforcer?"

She pushed back a strand of hair that had escaped from her bun, absently. Sokka didn't reply at first, but instead felt his glazed eyes follow the strand to the rest of its half-up tresses. They saw one another every few months, on all the special occasions—birthdays, holidays, near-death experience day, national drinking buddies day (the last one they had made up)—but every time they got together, she never failed to surprise him in some way, whether it was a story about almost getting an eye taken out or just the fact that her hair had gotten really, _really_ long. And shiny. And wow, there went his hand without permission, reaching up to touch her hair until he realized what he was doing and forced it back down.

"Hey Sokka, you fall asleep?"

He snapped abruptly back to life at her retort, nearly dousing himself with rum at the sight of her furrowed eyebrows. "Huh? Oh, right. Yeah. Stamping papers and stuff." He made a vague stamping gesture with one hand, took another look at Toph as she busied herself by licking a eddy of rum from the side of her pint, took another long drink. He was slip-slip-slipping into drunkhood (which he didn't mind, since he was apt to feel less confused after anyway), slow and steady.

"How's Suki? You hear from her?"

He snorted into his pint at this and Toph began to giggle uncharacteristically despite the innocence of the question.

"Does that mean no?"

"No no no, I hear from her all right," he slurred, raising a finger at her face in mock seriousness. Toph sensed this gesture and stifled another giggle with her fist. "She's happier home than she was in Ba Sing Se, 'cos she missed her dad and family and life blah blah. B'sides, three years together and still no marriage stuff?" He waved a hand. "Puh-_lease_. It was sad to break up and stuff, but it's probably better this way."

Toph gave a sage nod and took a thoughtful swig. "_Women_, ya know?"

Sokka shook his head in agreement. "Crazy, all of 'em. If we didn't need them to make more of me, what the hell would we need 'em for?"

"You got that right."

That warm, complacent feeling he often only associated with drinking and Toph's companionship rendered him a smirking idiot. Then, when the pouty bartender passed by the counter, he grabbed her by the sleeve and asked for two more drinks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at her. She took the generous tip he handed to her before rolling her eyes and stalking off to the tap. Letting the pair of them into the bar together had been her first mistake, but letting them stay and drink was near suicide. It was only a matter of time until the pending explosion, and the young bartender had apparently not heard of Toph and Sokka's rowdy, unruly reputation in bars across the world.

She returned shortly thereafter with two more frothy pints, at which point Sokka had begun to recap the tale he liked to call "how we almost died but didn't because we're amazing."

Accepting the two drinks without so much as a glance at the bartender, Sokka passed one off to the Buzzed Bandit beside him and turned on his barstool to face her, his knees knocking almost violently against hers in his excitement.

"So there I was, surrounded by soldiers with you dangling from one hand and my sanity in the other. We were hangin' on to dear life, but we were stuck."

"An' your leg was broken!" added Toph. Her hands were wrapped around the pint as if she were drinking tea and listening to her favorite bedtime story instead of a war recollection, her blind eyes sparkling with intoxicated wonder.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that!" Sokka snapped his fingers. "I got it cut open when I was fightin' those guards, right? An' there was blood friggin _everywhere_. An' then boom!"

Here he threw up his hands and showered Toph and the man seated behind him with droplets of booze. While the man merely shot Sokka a sour look and went back to his game, a look of stupefied wonder came over Toph's pale face and she threw her head back against the rain of liquor.

"Amazing!" she cried, though at what exactly he wasn't quite sure. "And then we stabbed all those guards and escaped on a war balloon before the other one kersploded into a ball of fiery death, _hahaha!_"

By now, a good number of people (the exasperated bartender included) had turned their heads towards the loud pair, whose story was both amusing and deafening at the same time. Unfortunately for the bartender, who could only fume as the situation dissolved at an exponential rate, the pair had done nothing to get themselves kicked out, not yet. Toph wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and belched loudly, which only earned more attention from the disturbed patrons nearby.

Sokka paused thoughtfully. When he finally did speak, his voice was more serious, more considering; the smile had dipped away from his face. "I thought we were gonna die, Toph," he muttered into the mug where he held it at the base of his bottom lip. His marine eyes darted towards her still frame and back again. "I was actually _scared_, which is sayin' something since I'm not 'fraid of anything."

He could almost feel her slick fingers slipping from his armored hand, the pain in his leg more excruciating than he could ever imagine—an old battle wound, properly taken care of but never healed perfectly for one reason or another. It was on nights like these, when the air pressure was just right, that the old throb plagued his steps, reminding him exactly just how much he had to drink in order to have an excuse for limping around like a fool. Sokka took another thoughtful sip, and then another, deeper one as Toph's stifled sob and "Aye aye, captain" echoed in the back of his mind.

"Yep, not the best way to go." What an understatement.

"You're telling me!" she countered grimly. "At least you can swim!"

"Not with a gushing broken leg."

"Ah, whatever. We din't die, did we? And here we are, drinkin' together and reminisca—remanes—remaniscis—oh, screw it—_remembrin'_ the past. I couldn't die, anyway, not without ever telling…"

Sokka shot her a suspicious look, but she had already picked up another drink and was busy slurping the foam from the top.

"Good times, good times," she slurred.

"Those were the good times, huh?" Sokka sighed, eyelids dropping at the thought. "Back in th' day."

"Good enough," Toph agreed, shrugging. "We were famous and Aang and Katara weren't married or doing Avatarly stuff in the Fire Nation, but we had our issues: Katara and Aang couldn't find places to make out without you walking in—" Sokka gave a feeble hiccup and downed the rest of his drink before signaling for the bartender to bring him another, "—You and Suki were duking it out over where to live, Zuko was on a mommy hunt, and I…" she shrugged again.

Sokka leaned one elbow on the countertop and set the side of his face on it, his drink held fast on one knee. He grinned slyly at his friend and teased, "What _about_ you, Toph? Busy makin' babies with The Duke and Mr. Moustache Man—haha, at the _same time!_ S'not even possible—"

Toph shook her head solemnly, spilling more drink down her green and pale yellow-clad front. "Nope, never touched 'em. I was too crazy about _you_ to flip around with 'ol Haru and his moustache—he tried, though, like two years ago. Lemme tell you: scariest moment of my life."

"Wait, _what?_"

In a moment of brilliant clarity, Sokka shook his head so hard that he almost fell off the barstool. For the most part Toph's explanation had been a jumble of sounds in his ears, but one thing had jumped out at him and smacked his brain around harder than any of Toph's punches.

Toph sighed, annoyed by his incompetence. "I _said,_ I never did stuff with Haru; his hair was too tickly—"

"No, before that. You were _crazy_ about me?"

Her face fell. Feigning a gulp from her pint, Toph almost effectively managed to hide the shade of scarlet that was blooming across her flushed cheeks. "Ah, that. Yeaaah…"

Sokka nearly slipped off the stool, but he managed to grab the edge of the counter in time. "Well, talk to me, woman!"

"Well, you were pretty hot stuff, right? Could you blame me for havin' a thing for you?"

She burst into laughter and he laughed too, for a good few moments, until he stopped as abruptly as he'd started.

Maybe it was the alcohol—yes, it had to be, because he'd never had a hard time suppressing this feeling before—but a strange sensation, the same sort of warmth that he felt every time they met after a long break, the most recent time he'd taken a good look at her, had crept up into his chest and throat. While he was being paralyzed by surprise (and, admittedly, a whole lot of other feelings too), Toph was experiencing a similar sensation as her laughter wore off.

"I was, like, twelve," she explained a little too quickly for him to catch properly. Her fingers ran along the rim of the mug, her delicate-looking mouth twitching into a frown. "An' you were the first person to ever—_mmph!_"

The fidgeting had been the last straw. Throwing aside his inhibitions to the fact that he had consumed not five but six drinks and had been deserving this moment for quite some time, he grabbed her knees to steady himself, leaned forward almost to toppling point and kissed her so hard that she had to grab the table in order to stay upright. And while in Sokka's mind it all made more sense than anything had in a long time, Toph had apparently missed the explanation memo because as soon as a split second later, she socked him in the arm. Hard.

"Ow! _Hey_, what're you _doing?_" he gasped, reaching one hand up to rub the bruising spot on his arm.

Her eyes flew wide in shock, eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. "What're _you_ doing?" she countered breathlessly. She raised her pint and slammed it down on the bar table as if to prove a point and crossed her legs in a most feminine pose he wouldn't have thought she could accomplish. Probably Katara's doing; he was pretty sure he'd seen that exact pose somewhere.

He rolled his eyes and slurred, "Haven't you ever been kissed before, Toph? _Duh!_"

"Oh!" Her jaw dropped, and they stayed in a sort of surprised, drunken trance for a few seconds before she finally grinned mischievously at a spot somewhere near his left shoulder, already leaning in. "Awesome."

Somewhere—Sokka wasn't exactly sure, as he had been too busy watching her slightly parted lips inch closer to his own—between picking up her pint and sliding forward against his eager hands, Toph let the liquor catch up to her. One uncharacteristic yelp later and she was falling right past him towards the floor and tossing her drink into the air. Those at the neighboring tables stopped their miniature brawls and conversations to watch the Blind Bandit fall from her seat, watched the perfect curve of the half-full pint when it flew from her hand and doused both Toph and a very unprepared Sokka, who could only watch and try not to fall off, too. One of the people at a nearby table laughed, but was quickly silenced by his frowning wife. Sokka sat wide-eyed and staring. Toph spluttered and quickly heaved herself into a sitting position. The rum had spilled all over her tunic and made it cling to her delicately-curved frame at some places, while Sokka had merely received a shirt and lap-full of the drink. The bartender took one look at them and clapped her palm to her forehead.

"Whoa," she giggled, rubbing the side of her head in amazement. "I think I missed."

Sokka took one look at her—splotchy wet with her hair all undone and hanging in her face—and together they burst into laughter. He leapt to his feet, stumbled, then leaned and grabbed Toph's upper arm in one large hand. She came-to quite quickly for someone who could barely sit up, clambering to her feet and plunking down in her seat with another laugh. His eyes darted from her embarrassedly-amused face to the neighboring patrons, who had mostly gone back to their business. Under normal circumstances he probably wouldn't have made such bold moves, but he was a few too many drinks in and not thinking all too much about anything at all, never mind about something so trivial as his _morals_ (whatever those even were).

He sat back down in his seat and grabbed his own drink, not bothered by the squishing noise his rum-soaked pants made when he plunked onto the barstool. There was a humming in his ears, a thudding in his chest that, by his experience, could be brought on only by very attractive women or a trip to the butcher's shop. And as far as he knew, there was no going back once it started up.

"Where were we, my dear Toph?" he asked in a voice he usually reserved for fancy parties—an exaggerated accent, made funnier by the underlying slur in his voice. Toph's smile widened at the sound. He took a drink from his pint and set it between them on the countertop.

Toph was already moving forward again, though this time she grabbed onto the counter with one hand to keep steady, the other reaching out and finding one of his blue-clad, broad shoulders. She sidled herself from her barstool and seated herself daintily on his knees, effectively closing the gap between the pair of them and making him flush at the same time. Her weight on his legs, while not altogether unpleasant—quite the contrary, even with the dull ache in the background of one irreparably damaged leg—brought what little focus he possessed sharply to the fact that this was _Toph_. Toph Bei Fong, whose parents gave him nightmares and whose faced plagued his war memories and daydreams alike, who fought hard and never ever had feelings for him, not ever (or so he had thought), who could drink more than most grown men and belch twice as loudly, was straddling his lap with one hand draped around his neck and was making him very, very vulnerable.

Desperate to stall at least a little, lest he lose the last fragments of his sobriety to his hormones, he asked, "Why din't you tell me, like, six years ago that you liked me?" His voice was oddly strangled, higher than usual.

Toph laughed yet again. He could smell the sweet drink on her breath, feel the hum of her laugh from deep within his chest, knew it was too late. "'Cos I couldn't compare with Suki's figure… back then!" she explained, reaching with her free hand to tug on the top of her tunic. He made a last-ditch effort to avert his eyes from this particular gesture.

Sokka, unaware that most of the people had not yet stopped staring at them, released the countertop so his hands could test out her waist. He patted the base of her hips once and nodded, businesslike: a perfect fit, if there ever was one. The only question was why he'd never tried before.

And then, so fluidly that he could never have believed that she was drunk beyond all means of the imagination if he hadn't just seen her fall sideways off her seat, her mouth was on his, kissing him both fervently and aggressively. Sokka wasn't sure which was the scarier thought: that he was kissing his best friend or that he knew he wasn't going to stop. His hands pulled tighter around her slim waist, her fingers danced up the back of his neck and pulled out his hair tie so she could better rake her hands through his hair. Maybe moments passed, maybe longer, but when Toph pulled back for breath he was only vaguely aware that half of the bar had stopped to watch the spectacle unfolding before them.

She pressed a hand against his chest, fumbled with the knot of his tunic. "Your shirt's wet," she observed matter-of-factly, so Toph-like that he could barely stand _not_ kissing her now that he'd begun. "I don't like it."

"Me neither. Let's get rid of it."

"Good idea. Allow me, Cap'n Sokka."

He wondered if she could feel his hands and legs positively quivering with anticipation—he supposed, through the little bit of reason that was left, that she was too drunk to sense anything more specific than his warm breath on her face. But even if she could, he could just blame it on having too much to drink (which he had) and therefore save his manliness. She probably wasn't thinking about too much anyway, since she was still struggling to untie the knot in his tunic, swearing under her breath the whole way. Sokka knew he wasn't thinking anything at all, nothing besides the fuzzy train of thought running through his head: _she's pulling off my tunic oh Spirits I can feel her hands on my chest (wow her hands are softer than they used to be) oh wait here we go kissing again (hey, where'd she drop my shirt?)_. _This is totally awesome, best bar trip ever._

He reached around her waist and pulled at the knot on _her_ tunic, loosening it and finally tearing it back so that the damp fabric fell open to reveal her pale yellow undershirt. Neither broke away this time, not for breath and not for the person a few tables away who yelled, "Get a room!" If he stopped to take a breath, something might happen to keep them from starting again, and he would have to walk away back to the city for another few months, and that just wasn't acceptable. So he and Toph carried on, so intensely occupied with one another that they couldn't see the frowning bargoers around them, his palms sliding up her back and forcing her closer to him still. She tasted like rum, smelled like some strange combination of dirt and perfume, kissed him as if she'd been waiting six years to do so.

Finally, when he could no longer manage to just _sit_ there on that uncomfortable seat, he pulled back—which, incidentally, was somewhat difficult to do when she hand one hand entrapping the back of his neck and the other running along the side of his bare waist—and set eyes on the heavily-breathing Earthbender.

"Hey," he breathed, only because it was the only thing he could think to say with his brain half incapacitated and his body on the fritz. His eyes roamed curiously, hungrily across her pale face and almost-neat hair.

A small smile twitched in the corner of her mouth, she responding in the exact same way. "Hey."

"We need to get outta here. Prontoishly."

She didn't miss a beat. "Les' go."

Toph scooted backwards off his lap, and if he hadn't still had his hands around her waist she would have toppled to the ground again. But he _did_ have a hold on her, and together they somehow managed to stand up start towards the long walk to the door—"Good riddance!" yelled one displeased woman—hand-in-hand. Sokka might have felt somewhat insecure walking down the long aisle, bare-chested and complete with "make-out hair," as he had once described it on Katara, but he was concentrating too hard on walking straight to do much else. Toph was in the lead, if only by a foot, tugging him along as if he were a lost child, both stumbling and walking into people and objects alike.

Unfortunately, they only made it halfway there. They had just sidestepped a very amused couple ("S'cuse us, war heroes comin' through!" Sokka called out) when the backs of Toph's legs knocked against one of the tables and sent her sprawling backwards across it with a yell of surprise. The table's occupants—a handful of men and women who had been watching as two middle-aged men played a game of portable Pai Sho—all gasped loudly at the sudden interruption, some saving their drinks at the last minute and others simply diving out of harm's way as Toph landed with a dull _thud_ on the wooden surface. Sokka, whose hand had released hers as soon as she'd fallen, saved himself from a similar fate only by nearly knocking over several other people. Pai Sho tiles flew every where in a colorful explosion.

"What're you _doing?_" he gasped, steadying himself against the table's edge with one hand on the shoulder of the person next to him.

Toph groaned slightly and responded that she was falling and that he was basically an idiot for not being able to see her lying there. He countered this by putting one hand on his hip in a somewhat feminine matter, insisting that it was not he who had fallen onto a _table_ (of all things) but she, and so she therefore must be the idiot here. It was at this point that the person Sokka had been using as an armrest shrugged out from beneath his hand, sending the intoxicated warrior almost face-first into the very table Toph was currently trying to sit upright on.

Sokka caught himself on the table, wincing as his bad leg twinged through his mental booze cloud. "You know you're ruinin' the romance here, Toph," he observed loudly.

"Ya think so?" She propped herself up into a sitting position before reaching blindly outwards, grabbing his arm, and yanking him off his feet. "I'll show you romance, you meathead."

In a flash, they were at it once more as if they'd never even stopped. One of the women who had been previously enjoying her night uttered a scream and fell backwards off the bench. Almost everyone gasped, a few laughed, some blushed at the overzealous couple that had knocked over most of the drinks on the table. Sokka swung one arm out sideways as he crawled up over her and reclined her backwards in their kiss, knocking aside several more drinks and sending the room into further disarray.

Everything was a blur of color and sound and light and feeling, nothing sharp in his mind but Toph in her aggressive nature. His knees ached and scraped against the scrubbed table, but for the most part there was nothing but this craziness that had overwhelmed him in a frenzy of emotion. It wasn't the sort of get-together he had planned, but Sokka had a feeling it was only getting better from here.

"Ya know," he began in low, pensive tones. His voice rasped slightly as she took this moment to begin a trail of kisses starting in the sensitive spot behind his ear—_and how did she even know how sensitive that spot was?_—and moving down his jaw, his neck. "Suki and me, we never made out on a table b'fore."

Toph broke off from her journey to deadpan, "Does that mean I win?"

"Not the point. What I'm tryin' t'say is… as great as this is… well, I can't kneel here forever, right? It's a little… uncomferble."

"You can say that again," muttered one man to another, both of whom had been watching Toph and Sokka with slightly disturbed looks on their faces.

"So what you're saying is we should—"

"Alright, that's _ENOUGH!_"

Sokka gave a yelp as a pair of strong hands grabbed him by his ears and jerked him backwards off of Toph and the table. He stumbled drunkenly sideways against the person, who he only realized was the bartender after she'd hurtled him into another table. Toph sat bolt upright, her hair now sticking up in every direction, her frown pointed in the general direction of the bartender.

"Hey, what gives?" she demanded.

The bartender's fists clenched. In one hand she held a broom, the other was pointed accusingly at Sokka, who slumped against the nearest table, rubbing his ears and wincing. "You two have been nothing but trouble since you came in here, and I _won't_ have it. Get out now, _before I beat you out myself!_"

Toph was already climbing off the table and dusting herself off when she snapped, "Arite, we gotcha. Keep your pants on, lady." She turned on Sokka with an indignant look, and together they marched (stumbled) out of the bar, Sokka pausing only to upright one of the many cups (now empty) he had knocked over and shoot its owner an apologetic, lopsided grin.

"How rude!" he exclaimed to Toph, throwing his hands into the air and almost knocking over two more people in the process. "I didn't even get to finish my drink!"

Once they hit the warm summer air, Sokka—still naked from the waist up and completely ignorant of this fact—leaned in towards Toph's ear and whispered, "Anyone at your place?"

"Nope," she replied, grinning. "And I have _rum_."

Sokka clapped his hands together in excitement. "Race you there!"

xxx

His head hurt, but not as badly as he thought it would have—it was more of a dull ache than an actual throb, but either way it was not the first thing on his mind. With a small sigh, he picked up a steaming cup of tea in each hand and padded across the modest apartment kitchen. It was nearly midday, but he had awoken only fifteen minutes beforehand with a growling in his stomach and a need for something to drink. Leave it to his stomach to always be his alarm.

As he made his way down the narrow hallway separating the guest bedroom, bathroom, and master bedroom, Sokka caught his reflection in the hallway mirror—_what does she have a mirror for, anyway?_ he wondered—and gave himself a quick once-over before nodding in satisfaction and moving on. If anything was for certain at the moment, it was that the blue and green shorts were _definitely _a good pick; if he could walk around in his underwear all day without getting arrested, he would do it just so everyone else could see them, too. A smirk flitting across his face, he continued on down the hallway until his bare feet stopped in the bedroom doorway, where the only light was from the sun spilling into the small window.

"G'morning," came the sleepy acknowledgement from across the room. Toph lay sprawled diagonally across the bed, tangled up in her rich silk sheets with a pillow clamped over her face.

"How's your head?"

Toph groaned. Sokka chuckled to himself and stepped over the green shirt and blue pants that lay carelessly strewn across the floor and made his way over to her. She tossed aside the pillow and sat up, tucking the sheet securely under her arms in a makeshift wrap so that she could use both hands to receive the cup he handed to her. Once he was sure she wasn't going to drop the tea, he set his own cup down on the bedside table and eased himself beside her, stomach-side down. Grabbing the nearest pillow, he propped it beneath his chin so he could get a better look at the green-eyed, bare-shouldered Blind Bandit.

"I've gotta say, this was the best reunion ever," he said, "But I think we might have gotten a little carried away back there."

She grinned, sipping her drink. A lock of hair fell in her face and she brushed it away with two fingers. "You can say that again. I'm guessing that we're probably banned from going there ever again."

"I wonder if they'll let me back in to get my tunic—it was my favorite one. Meaning that it didn't have any holes in it."

"I wouldn't count on it. You can just borrow one of mine."

"Ooh, nice." He rolled his eyes at her, though the smile on his face betrayed his true feelings and she couldn't see the gesture anyway. "Maybe I should just borrow your clothes all the time."

"Maybe you should."

Another thoughtful pause. As much as he wanted to linger on the subject, he wasn't quite sure of what he'd say, or maybe he knew exactly what to say and was just afraid of saying it. Either way, for now he was just happy to be here, drinking tea (no more alcohol for a little while, maybe a day or a few hours) with Toph and hanging around on her bed in his underwear. What was not to love?

"So Toph," he began casually. "Now that we've been kicked out of the last decent bar—although I wasn't too thrilled with the service, to tell you the truth—"

One of her eyebrows arched. "Excuse me?"

"No, I mean the _bartender_."

"Oh. Carry on, then."

"Well, what do we do now?"

At this she shrugged, set her tea down next to his, and turned sideways towards him. Her leg, not wholly covered by the sheet, brushed against his as she moved closer and sighed into his shoulder. Sokka felt a small shiver run down his spine. When she tucked her head under his chin, edging her supple, sheet-covered body down next to his, he caught the scent of her hair—flowery, but not too delicate, and tinged with booze. Like her. He heaved a sigh and rested his chin on the top of her head, ran a hand along the curve of her shoulder.

She whispered, insinuating, "We could do… nothing. All day."

"I like the way you think, Toph," was his amused reply.

"Or," she continued, smirking against his chest, "We could always—"

_Knock-knock._

She stiffened in his arms, eyes growing wide with realization and quite a bit of horror. Pulling away from him, she sat up and turned an ear towards the doorway with the air of one recognizing an attack. Sokka, too, raised himself into a sitting position and turned his eyes to the door.

"What the—?" he began, but she cut him off with the most terrifying three syllables he'd ever heard:

"_My parents._"

Sokka felt every bone in his body freeze.

"Oh _sh_—"

"Sokka, move!" she hissed, turning and giving him a very Toph-like shove. He only barely managed to stifle a surprised shout as he tumbled very nearly off the edge of the bed, catching himself on the nearby table. His vision spun; he had to grab his head to keep it from spinning off of his shoulders. When he finally regained sight, he saw that Toph had already flounced from the bed, the sheet held fast against her chest with one hand, and yanked open her closet with the other.

A male voice called from outside, "Toph dear, are you home—? Don't tell me you're still _sleeping_—"

Toph reached into the closet and pulled out the first thing her hand closed on, throwing it backwards at Sokka. A moment later it landed on his head and doused him in darkness, and it took him several more seconds to wrestle it away from his face.

"Put that on," she demanded, already scurrying across the floor in search of her own unceremoniously-tossed clothing. "You need a shirt so I can tell them you came over for breakfast."

"Well I _did_," defended Sokka in amused tones even though his heart had begun to race with anxiety. If there was one thing he feared, it was being killed at the hands of a very unhappy, very rich Lao Bei Fong. "Only I stayed for dinner and dessert, too—"

"Just shut up and put it on!" She had found her undershirt and was trying to force her head through the sleeve, her voice muffled by the fabric.

At this, Sokka tore his eyes from the amusing scene and looked down at the article she'd thrown at him. His eyebrows rose. "Would your parents like me better if I was a crossdresser?"

Toph resurfaced from the depths of her shirt, frowning in bemusement. "No, I'm pretty sure they'll hate you no matter what you wear. Why?"

"Because." He held the cloth up to his eyelevel and grinned at her over the top of it. "As much as I like this, I don't think they'd much approve if they walked in and saw me wearing one of your dresses."

The knock on the door was louder this time. Toph cocked her head in the direction of the sound before striding across the bedroom to where he sat. She yanked the dress from his hands and leaned in, despite her urgency, for a quick kiss. Sokka returned it wholeheartedly, and when she broke away there was a grin on both of their faces.

"Get out of my bed, Sokka."

"Aw, that's cold."

xxx

_Fin._

* * *

A/n: I know, I'm a sap and I don't write makeouts very often; sue me, why doncha? (Actually, please don't. I'm poor as dirt).

On another note, I'll be away from the 3rd to the 9th, so I gave my password the the amazing Izzy, who will be posting my chapters in my place. I'll be more than thrilled to respond to any and all reviews/questions when I return from my vacation thing. Also, before I forget to mention: THIS STORY IS A COLLAB! In other words, I paired up with the amazing and wonderfully evil Zeitgheist on CAPSLOCKTOKKA for this story, and she is in the process of illustrating this oneshot! So if you liked this, you'll love the fantastic art that goes with it. It'll be posted on the aforementioned livejournal community by tomorrow night.

So I hope you enjoyed this, and I look forward to spending Tokka Week with you!


	2. Tragedy of Realism

A/n: Welcome to day two of Tokka Week! I spent my day at a con, where I met up with some fellow Tokkaneers for a cosplay shoot, and basically had fun.

But here we are; this story is less fun than the first, but with some character stuff I think is pretty valuable. Note that it was beta-d during a car ride, so... yeah. Also, thank you all SO MUCH for your incredible reaction to the first day's post. As soon as I return from my journey (I leave tomorrow, early) then I promise I will respond to all those who reviewed! You already know I adore you all.

A little about the story: it was written before the finale, when we still had hopes and dreams (haha, I'm kidding about the last part), so it doesn't match up with the finale canon (though maybe it should; no, kidding again. The finale was perfect). But this is a bit of... a don't know. Just read it. xD

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Happy Reading, and Happy Tokka Week!

* * *

_Day Two: Realistic Scenario_

_August 2, 2008_

This was finally it—the end of the line, the last battle, and only two days before the comet's scheduled arrival.

Sokka adjusted the ties on his armored boots, snatched up his shield, and rose to his feet from the crouching position he had been stooped in for the last few minutes. The air was stifling, hazy, foreboding as all the troops began to organize into their designated stations. Suki stood at his side with her painted face as grim as his unadorned one, though her body position was as confident as ever. He turned his head towards hers and their eyes met, a confirmation of both their unspoken promises and deepest fears, giving them the chills right down to their gloved fingers. Behind them by few feet, Katara and Aang spoke with one of the generals in hushed, sullen voices. The time had come.

And then, an unexpected tap on his shoulder. Sokka turned.

"Toph? What's wrong?"

He had almost not recognized her with her invasion hat pulled down to shadow her face, but that frame was hardly foreign to him, and those shoulders were stooped in a way that he knew meant some sort of trouble.

"I need to talk to you," she muttered quietly, but with no waver. Strong, he mused. Rocklike.

Suki's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but Sokka didn't even look at her. Being the dutiful friend that he was, no thought but "what's so important that she broke off from the troops she's supposed to be directing?" crossed his mind as he followed Toph a few feet away until they were just out of earshot. Once there, Toph turned around and faced the warrior. With one hand she pulled the hat from her head, revealing a pale, frowning face and hair that had already begun to escape from its entrapment. Sokka frowned now too and, thinking he understood what was bothering her, tried to ease her worry with a bit of a pep talk.

"Aw Toph, don't be afraid," he began, resting a large hand on her small shoulder, "You're an amazing fighter—"

"I'm not afraid," she snapped. A look of almost indignation flickered across her face for a split second. Sokka stared. "Since we might not come back from this, I know I can't just walk away without you knowing…" Her voice eddied off into nothingness, she staring with unseeing eyes somewhere between their feet. It was one of those rare chilling moments between them, where Sokka could feel that creeping sensation on the back of his neck. He didn't like it, not at all.

Baffled, he pressed, "Without me knowing what? What is it—?"

But Sokka never finished his question, as Toph then grabbed him by the collar, pulled him forcefully down to her level, and kissed him full on the mouth. His eyes flew wide open with surprise, the shield dropping from his hand to the ground with a clatter, and when Toph let him go he found that he was paralyzed for a moment before he finally, blinking as he did so, straightened up. Somewhere in the back of his mind he acknowledged that his hands were, in fact, shaking, and yet a subtle strength—a warmth, almost—had begun to vibrate in the pit of his chest. Although he knew that Suki was staring at him, and that Katara and Aang's discussion had ended abruptly with this motion, he couldn't tear his eyes from the only one who couldn't look back.

Toph was still frowning, a blush tinged on her cheeks, as she began to back away.

"It's you, Sokka," she explained sadly, though he had not fully recovered from the initial attack yet. "It's always been you—it probably always will be, and I can't do anything about it. I'm—I'm just sorry that it had to interfere with your life." She paused thoughtfully. "And mine."

With that, Toph Bei Fong, shaking her head and backing away still, put her hat curtly back on her head and turned away one last time, then darted off to rejoin her regiment.

A few moments later, he felt Suki's hand on his shoulder, could see the puzzled, searching look she was giving him but could not bring himself to look away from Toph's retreating back. He could not speak. His mouth hung slightly agape still, a small blush rising in his face. His eyes followed Toph until she disappeared into the growing crowd of Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe men, and even then they remained a moment longer where she had once stood. Behind him, Katara and Aang shared a surprised look. Somehow, he realized (a little too late), he had missed something extraordinarily important, something he had already begun to lament, because somehow he knew that he would never get a chance to make it right.

"Sokka?"

Too late.

Sokka closed his mouth, blinked once, hard, and turned to Suki. But when he, expecting reassurance, looked into her warm eyes, he found that even the stifling heat of the day could not overcome the startling cold that had nestled into the pit of his chest.

It's done.

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/n: Not quite the same as yesterday, eh? Hehe, sorry about that. I need to cover a lot of genres in a very few days' work, and I HAVE always been a fan of angsty material.

Anyway, I hope you liked it, and thanks for reading!


	3. Pillow Talk

A/n: Day three, here we are! I wrote most of this immediately after watching the leaked episode "The Western Air Temple", but could never post it until after the episode had been aired (nearly six months later!). I thought it was cute when Sokka sort of scooped her up off the ground and carried her away; it made me smile, so I decided to... elaborate on it, a bit? Maybe do some character development? This one's happier than the previous, at any rate. xD

I'm off on my trip now, so I'll be back in a week or so with all of your review replies. Again, thanks so much for the feedback!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading, and Happy Tokka Week!

* * *

_Day Three: Pillow Talk_

_August 3, 2008_

As far as she could tell, the Western Air Temple and its inhabitants were asleep. If she put her hand on the wall she could feel one of her companions roll over in slumber, or hear Aang heave a troubled sigh as he confronted his problems through his dreams.

Toph Bei Fong, however, could not even close her eyes. The pain in her feet had reduced to a dull throb by now, thanks to Katara's handiwork, but still she felt an acute stab whenever she tried to stand on the partially raw skin. So she lay there with fleeting thoughts flying through her head like clouds, each one stormier than the previous. It was not until a little while later that she decided that her thoughts could no longer be confined to herself, and that was when she (very literally) rolled out of bed and began to drag herself across the floor. She hadn't made up her mind as to where she was going to go, but her body nevertheless began its journey down the hallway—she distinctly heard Zuko mutter to himself behind his bedroom door, but her heart did not cry for his voice and so she passed him—towards the last stone bedroom in the hallway. Reach out, drag across the dirt-caked floor, recover, reach again. The feeling of silt in her fingernails was most welcome in this time of unease, a familiar friend in the ever-piercing dark.

On her way, a door opened and the familiar footsteps of Katara entered the hall. Quickly, before she could be seen, Toph half-crawled into a branching hallway; it wasn't that she had anything to hide, but she didn't feel much like explaining why she was dragging herself around in the middle of the night (although, admittedly, she couldn't help but wonder where _Katara_ was heading). The footsteps made their way quickly down the hall, pausing only for a moment outside Aang's door before it opened and she stepped inside.

Eyebrows up near her hairline now in her curiosity, she heaved a long sigh and continued on her journey. Her previous assumption had been wrong; everyone in the entire Temple, it seemed, was awake.

Everyone, apparently, but Sokka, whose snores were so loud that she was surprised she hadn't heard them from her room. A part of her wanted to leave him to his rest—they'd had a long and eventful day, after all—but she nevertheless made her way across his floor to the foot of the bed.

"_Psst…_" No response. "Hey, Sokka, wake up." Toph accompanied the whisper with a gentle jab at his side.

Sokka's snore was cut off abruptly as he sat bolt upright in bed. The _shing!_ of metal by the side of her face told Toph that she had almost lost an ear by Sokka's sword; alarmed, she ducked downward and covered her head with her hands.

"Sokka, it's me!"

"What's going on—? Oh." The sword slipped from Sokka's hand, and a stifled groan informed the Blind Bandit that the weapon had landed on his knee. The warrior made a sort of pained squeak, wincing, and asked, "Uh, so what's going on?" He rubbed his eyes groggily and cast a glance out the dark window. "What _time_ is it?"

Toph gave a noncommittal shrug. "I just wanted to… talk."

"Um, okay." An awkward pause. She could almost _feel_ his eyes bearing down on her slouched frame. "So, is there anything you wanted to talk about?" Again, he looked out towards the window and yawned. "In the middle of the night?"

At this, Toph frowned towards the floor, her hair tickling the sides of her face as it fell forward. Sokka was never scornful towards her—well, except for earlier the previous day—but she still felt almost ashamed beside him, as if the look he was giving her, a look she could not see anyway, was disdainful… as opposed to the mildly curious one actually settling on his face.

"I guess…" she mumbled towards the floor, "I didn't mean to yell at you. Well—well yeah, I _did_, but I still feel bad."

A small laugh reached her ears and Toph knew that Sokka had forgiven her. It was Sokka. He would, she knew, forgive him even if she crushed him with a boulder; it was just his nature, just… _Sokka_. That made it all the harder for her to apologize. Her fingers laced together on the ground and held fast.

"Do you… want to sit?" asked Sokka hesitantly.

"Ah." The monosyllable fell dumbly from her lips with a sigh. "That would be nice."

And of course, as she struggled to climb from her knees to his bed without letting her burned feet touch the ground, she imagined that she must look ridiculous. It was only when a rough hand gripped her upper arm and began to pull her up over his outstretched legs that a faint blush crept across her face.

_Thank goodness it's dark_, she mused.

The pair worked for a few seconds, she trying to pull herself up and he keeping her from falling back, until she finally clambered up over him onto an empty spot of the large bed, at which point she buried her face in his second pillow and laughed at herself.

"That was a harder than I thought it was going to be," she sighed, lifting her head as she shifted into a comfortable sitting position across from Sokka.

She wasn't completely blind where she sat, no; the ground beneath them was solid enough to send vibrations to her head. His blurred frame still stood out to her more or less in her mind's eye, his chest rising and falling with breath. It was a comforting sight, to say the least. Sokka alive and well, even after being nearly killed a thousand and a half times. Her heart skipped at the thought, her half-smile faded into a frown.

"We've never fought before this, have we?" she asked.

"No, we haven't." A pause.

"I don't like it."

"Me neither."

"Look, Sokka," she began again, but he cut her off before she could even begin.

"Don't apologize, Toph." His voice was tired but attentive, achy but warm. "It's okay, it really is. I yelled at you, too. We were both just tired, and worried, and we disagreed."

Toph let out a small sigh, glad that she could at least get the issue off her chest. "I guess so. It just gave me this really bad feeling, like I'd ruined our friendship or—or something," she explained lamely. "I fight with Katara and Aang all the time, but fighting with you was different somehow."

Sokka sighed from where he sat, and she imagined that he was looking out the window once more.

"We're best friends, Toph," he said.

Toph agreed slowly, silently adding that she thought of him as a _little_ more than a mischief buddy, although she really did enjoy making trouble with him, too. It was just that nobody else in her life—not that she had met a whole lot of people before them, but still—had ever given her that feeling before, had ever made her feel so significant and so small at the same time, with as little as the touch of his hand.

"I would never let anything get in the way of that." Sokka paused thoughtfully, then asked in a tone that sounded wholly more like him, "Did you really drag yourself all the way here to apologize?"

When she nodded, he burst into a small fit of stifled laughter, which she merely smirked through, and when he finally recovered he sounded much less tired.

"I can't believe you thought about it that much," he chuckled.

She grinned, embarrassed. "I didn't come in here because I was guilty, stupid," said Toph. "I couldn't sleep, so I crawled over and then _remembered_ that I felt guilty about it."

"_Sure_ you did." She swung at him and missed. Darn impaired Toph-o-Vision.

"It's true," she insisted, though the lie was evident on her face. As much as she hoped it was still dark enough for him to see her blush, she found that she was far less awkward than when she'd dragged herself through the doorway. "And now that I've got that off my chest, I can drag myself back to bed."

Sokka barely missed a beat. "Are you sure?"

When her eyebrow quirked upwards, he hastily added, "I—I mean, are you done talking? Because I thought you had more to say, but since you don't I guess you can go... Do you want me to carry you back?"

At this, it was Toph who laughed. "No, I'm fine. It only took me five minutes." She laughed some more. "But since I'm here, we might as well talk some more, right?"

"Sounds good to me!"

"Good. Now scooch over so I can sit better and you can stretch out your legs."

"Right."

The sheets shuffled around as Toph climbed over Sokka's legs again, he moving sideways under the covers so that she could sit beside him instead of across from him. Though she elected not to use the blankets—this was partly because she was afraid to get too close to him, lest she lose it completely, but also because a vision of a very scandalized Katara popped into her head at the same time—she grabbed the pillow she had originally used to stifle her laughter and propped it under her dark hair. Even on the cold nights when the group camped together, she had never laid as close to him as she did now, their shoulders brushing every time one of them yawned or shifted. For a few moments, they stayed silent as ghosts.

"It's weird to have Zuko living with us and not trying to burn Aang alive, isn't it?" he yawned, pulling the sheets up under his armpits and folding his hands at the center of his chest.

Toph shrugged. "Well probably more for you than me, but yeah, I guess so."

Sokka gave a sleepy, noncommittal grunt.

Toph continued, "I mean, deep down I always knew he wasn't a _bad_ person. I talked to his uncle once, and he was pretty convinced that Zuko was stupid and confused, but not evil. And then that one time when we fought in that deserted town, when his uncle went down his heart was racing like crazy. It really was genuine, you know?"

Nothing.

"Sokka?"

A small noise that could have been an acknowledgment or a mumble escaped from Sokka's mouth, but it didn't take sight for Toph to realize that he had passed out again. She smiled to herself, closed her eyes, took a deep breath.

"G'nite, Sokka," she whispered.

Morning would bring more than just daylight and rest, but as Toph finally drifted off into the haze, she didn't care much that Katara would burst into the room at the crack of dawn and demand to know why Toph was in Sokka's bed, or that Sokka would nearly scream when he awoke to find her face mere inches from his. All she could hear was the gentle flow of his breath, the soft sigh in it that worked as a pacifier and a healing agent.

The temple dipped into silence.

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/n: This made me sleepy, but I suppose that's not such a bad thing (considering how it's almost midnight now). Not too many notes here, except thank you so much for reading!


	4. Parenting Woes

A/n: This story is... recycled! Oh no. xD

Unless you camp out on KFnet, you have not read this story. I forget where it came from, exactly, but I really enjoyed writing it. Toph and Sokka's interactions in this feel more natural. This story touches upon previous... endeavors, you could say! You'll understand soon enough (or so I hope).

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading, and Happy Tokka Week!

* * *

_Day Four: Parenting Woes_

_August 4, 2008_

"I can't do this. If we have to keep this up, I'm going to lose my mind."

"Hmmph." Sokka gently forced a steaming cup into her hands and grunted malnaturedly at her remark. "At least you still have yours; I lost mine about an hour ago."

Toph sighed and sipped her tea, frowning. One of her hands rose up and made a feeble attempt at flattening her hair down, more out of stress than the actual need to look nice. Dark circles had formed under her half-lidded eyes a few hours back, marks that also plagued Sokka's unshaven face. Both of them would have fallen asleep a long time ago if the sound of screaming hadn't suddenly erupted out of the night's silence, startling Sokka into falling right out of bed. Since then, they had been here, attempting to soothe the savage beast—who, in this case, was their one-year-old daughter.

Setting down her drink—infused with something to give her energy, she hoped—Toph reached somewhat blindly into the crib and pulled Nikka up, out, and into her arms. She pressed Nikka's head gently into her shoulder and shushed her quietly. For a split second, the infant seemed to consider stopping; the crying ceased.

"How's it look?" Toph whispered to her husband; the very edge on her voice told Sokka that if the crying didn't stop soon, Nikka wasn't going to be the only one in tears.

"Well… messy," he admitted, wincing as Nikka wiped some of her dripping snot on the sleeve of her mother's shoulder. "But better! Oh, wait—"

Evidently Nikka had only stopped to take a breath, because a second later she was screaming again at the top of her little voice. Toph gave a small cry of her own, half out of exhaustion and half from despair. Even Sokka wanted to cry, but for the sake of his own manliness he choked it back down and took a deep breath.

"I'll be back in a second, hold on."

Toph didn't bother turning her blind eyes back. "Grab my sanity, will you? I left it at the door."

For the first time in hours, Sokka laughed. "I'm a warrior, not a miracle-worker, but nice try."

Sokka walked out of the room, but Toph continued to try to calm the infant in her arms. She lightly kissed the top of Nikka's head and wiped her daughter's face with the collar of her shirt.

"What's making you so sad?" Toph breathed desperately. "I wish you could just _tell_ me. Are you hungry, or just overtired?" She sighed and her heart swam. The backs of her fingers rested on Nikka's forehead, feeling for heat. "You're not sick, you've turned down every toy in the house, you don't need to be changed—so what is it, Nikka?"

Sokka chose this moment to reenter the room. He appeared to be carrying every weapon he owned: boomerang, club, machete—all of them, all dangling haphazardly from his arms. He unceremoniously opened his arms wide and deposited them on the floor, then arched his back in a tired stretch before snatching up his boomerang and tucking it under one arm.

"Come on, Toph, put her down for a minute while we figure things out."

He crossed the room, gently plucked Nikka up, gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, and placed the still-screaming child back in her crib.

"We'll figure out something, I promise," he whispered to her before turning to Toph and pulling a cloth out of his pocket. "You can go lie down if you want," he murmured as he used the cloth to clean the spot on Toph shirt where Nikka had wiped her nose.

Toph shook her head—and gosh, how could she look so beautiful when she was on the verge of exhausted tears?—and protested, "Like I would sleep anyway? I'm surprised the neighbors haven't broken the door down yet."

Sokka set the boomerang down in Nikka's crib so that he could wrap an arm around Toph's shoulders.

"Are you sure? I brought my stuff on here so I can work on it while I take care of Nikka—"

"Well aren't _you_ the multitasker?" Toph quipped.

"—I brought my boomerang and machete and stuff. My boomerang especially needs… some repair… and…" Sokka trailed off. An epiphany of sorts had struck him at full force like a ton of rocks. And, judging by a gaping Toph's expression, it had hit her as well.

The room was silent. Oh _spirits_, the silence pierced the air louder than any of Nikka's screams, now that the crying had stopped. It occurred to Sokka that his ears were ringing—he slammed his palm against one ear to make sure, then winced. He continued to stare, jaw slack, into Toph's eyes as if she could look back, more to check that he wasn't dreaming than anything else.

"It stopped," she uttered, nonplussed, almost with some panic. "Why did it stop?"

Simultaneously, they turned towards the crib and focused on Nikka. The infant sat upright in bed, clutching Sokka's Water Tribe boomerang and making those nonsense sounds that Sokka had long ago stopped trying to decipher.

Sokka came-to long enough to reach up and close his jaw with one hand. Beside him, Toph appeared more ragged and tired than ever—if her parents could have seen her in this state, she was sure they would think she'd died.

"She just wanted… my boomerang… the whole time." The words fell from his mouth with the same 'nothing tone' that his face portrayed.

"Are you telling me that if we'd just given her your stupid weapons, we would have been asleep hours ago?" Her deadpanned statement received no response. Toph gave an ironic laugh. "Wow Sokka, she really is your daughter, you know."

Beside her, Sokka burst into tears.

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/n: And... I don't have any notes, except that the paper I originally wrote this on had more scribbled drawings than anything else (useless fact of the day, of course). xD Other than that, this story isn't particularly... anything, really. Just sort of cute, and an interesting exploration of a different side of Toph's character.

Thanks for reading!


	5. The Many Uses of Earthbending

A/n: I've got to thank the lovely Zeitgheist for the original idea behind this story... it wasn't stupid at all! At least, I didn't think so. That remains up to the readers. This oneshot is short and sweet, and very in-depth with some of Toph's thoughts. But what can I say? I like the way she thinks. :D Yet again, another story that continues a theme from something older; the original "The Many Uses of Earthbending" is one of my favorite stories (that I've written) of all time. And while there's not much "Earthbending" involved, you get the point.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Happy Reading, and Happy Tokka Week!

* * *

**The Many Uses of Earthbending**

_II. Create a Gift_

_August 5, 2008_

She's worked so hard for this moment, to keep it secret and make it work, but now that it's here a sort of nausea has settled into the pit of her stomach. Over a week and a half and a handful of sleepless nights later—even Sokka has noticed the dark circles under her eyes, which is really saying something since he spends so much time with Suki now—Toph is crouched in her Earth Tent with her knees tucked up against her chest and her face in her hands.

"Stop it, stop it, _stop it!_" she hisses quietly to herself, thumping her clenched fists against her forehead in frustration. "It's too late to chicken out now."

And it is. She's undergone the work, talked to the right people, done everything to make this meticulously-spent time go toward making the final product perfect—and it is, though of course she can't really see, but to Toph it just _feels_ right. Now it's just a matter of not losing her cool; it isn't even a big deal, really, or at least it shouldn't be. Not the confrontation, anyway. It just… is. The sad thing is that she knows exactly why, and it spans beyond the project itself into much murkier waters (which is saying something, considering how she can't even swim).

But no. Before she can change her mind, for she feels him beginning to walk off in the opposite direction and she doesn't want to have to chase him down only to bring him back, she drops the heavy earth door to the tent and runs out into the sun's warmth.

The day is beautiful, almost mocking her frazzled nerves. She can feel the heat rolling in waves onto her face and arms, and while the tent had been warm it had at least provided some shelter from the sunlight. Off in the far distance she can hear Aang and Katara splashing around on the beach, just like they used to before the real dip in the war's progress, before its eventual resolution. Toph almost smiles, even in her state of near-panic; this pit stop on the way to the other end of the Fire Nation with the rest of the troops is well deserved, she thinks, for everyone. The war is finally over, and save for the small rebellions there has been little to complain about. They've been through so much in the last year that it's almost painful to look back and recall, so instead they can only look forward, hoping that the days ahead are as beautifully simple as this one.

It makes sense, then, for Sokka to be heading off towards the beach with Suki, a towel hanging around his neck and one arm draped over Suki's shoulders. He's jabbering on (as per usual) about something he's come across in the local store earlier this morning, but when Toph finally catches up with them a second later, he cuts off his sentence and turns around.

"Hey Toph, you coming with us?" he asks cheerfully. "I've got an extra towel—"

Toph shakes her head, feeling sick to her stomach with anxiety. _Does it show on my face?_ she wonders. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you for a second."

"Oh." The single syllable sounds a little more than confused. "Okay."

An awkward pause follows before she finally adds, "Alone, I mean."

Toph can't help but feel a little self-satisfied when he lets out another taken aback "oh", removes the towel from around his neck, and passes it absently it into Suki's hands before starting off after Toph. She can't see, but somehow she knows that, for once in a _long_ time, all his attention is focused solely on her; he doesn't so much as speak a word to his girlfriend as he follows the Blind Bandit towards their camp and her tent. His eyes are on her the whole way, she just knows it, and it feels good despite her other, less pleasant feelings.

"After you," she manages to say without sounding strained, and no sooner does she follow him into the tent than Sokka demands, in concerned tones, to know what's going on.

"I know that look," he asserts, crossing his arms worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replies, even though her stomach is writing. She shouldn't be this nervous! "Look, Sokka. You know I don't usually… well, okay. I have something for you."

"Is it bad news?"

"Not quite." She's already on the other side of the dimly-lit tent, leaping over her bag to grab what looks like a rolled-up pile of dirty clothes. The cloth is heavy in her hands, and not just because it _is_, in fact, actually heavy. She makes her long trip back to where he stands, confused, and holds out the bundle in both hands.

"You… want me to do your laundry?" Sokka deadpans. "Gee Toph, I know me and Katara are related, but I don't typically—"

"Just look," she replies, pressing it into his hands, her heart thumping along in her ears.

"Wow, it's heavy Hey, what's this—? Oh… _no way_."

The amazement in his voice hits her like a ton of bricks. Wonderful, solid bricks of joy. Toph can feel ground trembling beneath his feet as he examines the prize within the clothes. Question after question comes to mind, but for now she forces them back down in hope that they will eventually answer themselves. There's a small gasp from the Warrior, and then a _shing_ that she's come to know all too well; the sound of a new sword sliding against a freshly-made boomerang as he lifts the hilt.

"Toph." He says her name in complete and utter shock, and although she does so love to hear her name on his lips, she's equally as mortified to hear a definite hitch in his voice. But there's no huge ramble, just a barrage of questions: "When, Toph? Why? _How?_"

Her face is burning and she's sure he can tell, though she internally blames this on the stifling tent. She shrugs away his question. "You lost your sword and boomerang while saving my life, so…" she sighs, shrugging again. "I asked your sword master—Piandao, I mean—and your dad to help me make you a new set."

At this, she reaches forward with a well-trained hand until her skin brushes gently against his on the sword hilt. It takes all of her willpower not to flinch her fingers away, and to assist this motion she merely runs two fingers along the smooth, cold edge of the sword until they come to the tip. Beneath her fingers, Toph can feel the professional-looking carvings etched into the metal. "Piandao and your dad helped me make them. We designed it together—they took my ideas and used it to make the molds, and then I did all the physical shoveling and stuff, like you did last time. Then I used Earthbending to make it more... special, I guess. I changed a few things. Like this—" She runs along the engraving with her thumb. "I put the Water Tribe symbol on the blades, and added the vertical strip."

"It's a different color," he observes, referring to the handsome, neatly inlaid line that graces the blades of both weapons.

Toph's eyebrows knit briefly together as she runs a finger down the center of the blade's flat side. "Yeah, right in the middle here. The same thing runs along the center line of your boomerang."

The silent, motionless pause tells Toph that he's still too busy staring in amazement to say a word. She is perfectly fine with this idea, as long as she's allowed to remain silent, too.

Finally he asks, "What is it? The rest of the sword is like normal metal, but what's the dark center line?"

"Space earth," she replies with a smirk, knowing all too well that her work is paying itself off as she stands here with a more or less speechless Sokka. "I wanted to make you a new space sword and boomerang, but Piandao didn't have the space earth any more, so I used mine."

At this, her smile fades and she is serious once more. Parting with that space earth bracelet had been more than a little difficult—a downright wrench, actually—but when it came right down to it, she wouldn't have had the chance to give it up if Sokka had not kept such a steady grip on her hand back in battle. And now comes the small pit of self-doubt, the tiny little speck that has seated itself in her chest for the last week while everyone else has dealt with Fire Nation business and played on the beach. Sokka isn't saying anything, and that quivering beneath his feet has finally stopped. Is there and imperfection in the work she's put everything into?

"I know it can't ever replace your old ones," she mutters at her feet, her hand dropping from the sword in his hands. She feels him set the sword, boomerang, and clothing down on the ground a moment later. "There are a lot of memories that are in the ocean somewhere with them. And I know they're not as good as the old ones—"

She doesn't get a chance to finish her sentence, because a second later he's crushing her ribs in the most intense hug she's ever felt. His arms are right around her waist, her arms are flying out in surprise but can do no match against his tight embrace. That being said, Toph feels as if every ounce of blood is rushing to her face with the weight of his chest, her face pressed against the side of his warm neck. A shuddery sigh and a teardrop on her neck make her blush even deeper, feel more a part of the warrior than ever before.

"No, they're not," he agrees—tearfully, she's again horrified to discover. "They're even better. Toph, this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." He laughs slightly into her shoulder and she grins too, despite her embarrassment. "Did I mention you're my favorite, best friend ever in all the world?"

It takes a few moments, but Toph eventually regains the use of her arms and pries him off of her, almost reluctantly. "I know you love me, Sokka, but I can't breathe," she teases him.

She can feel him through the earth as he straightens up, wipes a tear from the bottom of his eye in an attempt at salvaging the last scraps of his masculinity. "I really, really do, Toph. Like a… well, not a sister—I don't really know what like. There's no comparing it." She can almost _feel_ the color rise to his face, the pause is so obviously awkward. He hastily adds, "And I'm not just saying that because you made this set."

"You'd better not be," she jokes, glad the awkward moment has passed.

He stoops down and picks up both new weapons, runs his hand along the edge of the boomerang's blade with an expert, searching eye. "These really are perfect," he observes. In one hand he makes a gesture as if to throw the boomerang, though it never leaves his hand (for which she's thankful, because she doesn't want to be showered in the debris of her collapsed tent).

"I know; I made them."

Toph is so overwhelmed with joy that she can barely keep from shedding a few tears herself, never mind keep a straight face. All the work is paying itself off, and his previous comment has left her with a fuzzy feeling she hasn't felt since before Suki came around again. A small laugh from Sokka brings her sharply back into focus and she blinks hard.

"I was actually worried where you kept disappearing off to; Katara thought you were gambling again, like some kind of addict," he says, grinning. Toph actually laughs, feels the weight lift off of her shoulders. "And then when you asked me to talk to you, I thought you were going to confess that you've been off with Haru or something."

She laughs even harder now with him, until her sides hurt. Laughs because it's ridiculous that she would ever go off anywhere with Haru, laughs because he's actually been _concerned_ that she's running off with Haru. The irony is priceless, she knows, but keeps the thought to herself, instead enjoying Sokka's laughter and the way it sounds intertwined with her own.

"Well," she somehow manages through her breath, wiping a tear of mirth from her own eye—because seriously, _Haru?_—and sets a hand on her waist, "you don't want to keep Suki waiting. She's probably really confused."

"Yeah…" He's staring longingly at the new weapons in his hand, she can tell, just longing for a chance to give them a test run. "Will you spar with me later?" he asks, a little shyly.

"Don't be stupid; of course I will. Now go on, we both have things to do," she says, punching him lightly on the arm. "I haven't slept all week."

"Sorry about that, incidentally."

"Yeah, yeah." She makes a motion towards the door and they both head for it. She stops at the entrance, however, and he turns around once more to face her, his arms weighed down with the weight of his new toys.

He speaks slowly, with consideration. "Really, thank you, Toph. I can't even tell you how much it means to me that you'd go through all of this, just for me."

_Hah, _just_ for you? It's always about you, Sokka_. "It's nothing, really."

"Yes, it is." He sighs again, half-tiredly. "I know I haven't spent a lot of time with you since Suki came back," he says quietly. "But I really do miss making trouble with you. I promise I'll repay you for this."

Toph only smiles. "You already have."

They share a final grin and then he's turning around and walking back towards where Suki has seated herself upon a rock. As his footsteps fade into the distance, Toph can hear his elated tones as he shows Suki the gift he's been given. Their excited voices drift farther away towards the beach, and for once Toph doesn't feel that pang of jealousy that she usually associates with Sokka and Suki being within ten feet of one another. His words are still spinning around in her head, and although _he_ couldn't even derive the true meaning of his jumbled words, she has no problem with it:

He loves her, and not like a sister. Not just like _family_.

Toph yawns, rubs her tired eyes, and walks back into her earth tent with a grin on her face.

It's no wedding proposal, but it's a pretty good start.

-

_Fin._

* * *

A/n: Keep dreaming, Toph. Hehe.

Thanks so much for reading!


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